


my sunshine.

by caesuraes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Boys Kissing, Childhood Friends, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Growing Up Together, M/M, Romance, this is just cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesuraes/pseuds/caesuraes
Summary: Before the Shield reached his thirteenth birthday, he’d already started dreaming about kissing his best friend.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	my sunshine.

— I’m quite surprised.  — Regis muttered one day, eyes observing his son’s retainers as they strolled together through the gardens.  They were children still, albeit imbued in responsibilities most men wouldn’t dream of, but Gladiolus’ laugh resonated through the castle’s walls  nevertheless.  Sword and Shield walked hand in hand, unaware of the fact they were being watched, too lost on their glimmering world.  No one else could quite comprehend what they went through, besides themselves: that was the reason they orbited around each other, moves synchronized to perfection since they had first met.

Serving at such a young age, lives resumed to the attachment to their Prince’s own, having to  acquire  extensive experience that went much further than their years —  all of  that created an abyss  in between  them and  similarly  aged companions, and yet.  There they were, hands clasped together as they delved into deep conversation, the sun setting  quietly  as if to not disturb their brief moment together.  Clarus looked at the King, confused at first, before deciding to follow his stare, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. — Ignis and your son are a better match than I had  previously  thought. — Regis explained as Ignis giggled, shoving Gladiolus’ shoulder with no ill intent. That was the most childlike he  was allowed  to be.

— Somehow… — the rumble of Lord Amicitia voice sounded mischievous, finding satisfaction in his heir’s happiness. — I am not at all surprised.  — and, as if on cue, Gladio stopped in his tracks, bringing the smaller boy closer to his own body, hugging him to the point Ignis, always the example of a proper adult in the wrong body, _whined_. King and Shield never felt like intruders in their territory.

* * *

The years ahead only seemed to tighten such bonds. Gladiolus Amicitia and Ignis Scientia  were attached by  duty, but it was so much more.  Ignis would roll his eyes anytime Gladio dared to speak about their past lives, where they had to be the best of friends — deep down,  however, it made sense. Their commitment to the crown didn’t begin to cover the silver string that attached them both by the heart.  They were an odd combination, for sure, and people often wondered how they got along so well, albeit always doing such out of the youngsters hearing range.

Where Ignis was proper and gentle, Gladiolus was wild and energetic.  While the Amicitia had a romantic outlook in most things, the Scientia prefered practicality — but, when it came to the Prince, the later softened, allowing him his precious time, and the first urged him on with fire in his eyes.  Their fighting styles couldn’t be more different, but there was a reason Ignis was the only one that could stand in a sparring session with Gladio for so long.  Even when  simply  standing next to one another, the stark differences were glaring: pale skin against tanned complexion; well-crafted speeches against carefree banter; trimmed sandy hair against long chocolate strands; emeralds against ambers . Pieces from different puzzles altogether, but that never stopped either of them.

One filled in the space where the other lacked — if Ignis needed the sun, Gladio would happilyprovide: hugging Ignis and saying he ought to take a break; bringing a hot cup of coffee to his office so he would smile a bit; filling his cheeks with pleasant warmth after forcing a laugh out of the blond with his awful jokes.  And Ignis did the same, always providing the future Shield with a light breeze only the night skies could muster, massaging his shoulders after a long day, calming him down with a few gentle words, and fixing his messy hair, no complains to  be heard  as he kissed Gladio’s forehead and bid him goodnight.

Iris was  barely  ten when she first joked about her older brother’s infatuation with Ignis — and Clarus did not hesitate to laugh at how his son blushed, making a mental note to tell that to his King in the following morning.

* * *

— Well. — Regis threw his head back, trying to contain the bubble of laughter in his throat. — Even though I took the boy in, there’s no denying he’s almost your son too, by now, dear Clarus.

— Son in law. — the Shield corrected in a half-joking manner, voice unimpressed. Should he feel guilty by making fun of his child’s love life?  Maybe  . But, drills  be damned , at least this was interesting.

— Then I guess your little Iris is onto something.

* * *

And the King wasn’t wrong: Ignis had no family.  His uncle — well, the man was _there_ , but he would never  be awarded  a mug with “best parent of the year” written on it in goofy lettering.  His parents were long gone, and brief mentions of his cousins never indicated a close relationship. The youngest Scientia never complained about it, Gladio was sure: it wasn’t a very Iggy thing to do, after all. As such, he almost lived in the castle full-time, being the only presence Noctis enjoyed in earnest.  Regis treated the ever so dedicated child as his own, but the Amicitia clan had a point in having Ignis over, at least once a week. _Living in your job can’t be good for you_ , Gladio would huff, well aware of his friend’s workaholic tendencies, determined to make him have fun.

And so, he’d spend the night.  It was tough convincing him to do so, at first: the mere idea of troubling the Amicitias was enough for Ignis to blush, and he’d ask  multiple  times if it was, in fact, okay for him to stay.  He’d even make himself look smaller while sitting down their table for dinner, but Clarus was always a saviour, easing him into the conversation and asking for his opinions on the most varied topics.  However, it took months — years?  — for the Scientia to drop the title of Lord Amicitia, no matter how ingrained the blond had made himself into their household.  Even before hitting his teens, he’d help in the kitchen, picking up Jared’s knowledge with awe, his smile the brightest Gladio had ever seen as he cooked their favourite meals. _Gods_ , he even lent a hand with Iris’ homework when Gladio was too tired to do so, letting the taller rest on his lap as he worked through every question Iris couldn’t manage on her own.

Before the Shield to  be reached  his thirteenth birthday, he’d already started dreaming about kissing his best friend.

* * *

Even when threading through puberty, Gladio was nothing but great at hiding his own emotions: he couldn’t lose his cool over such  prickly  things, it wouldn’t befitting of a Shield.  However, no matter how hard he tried, there was still an eruption waiting for its release underneath his skin.  The proximity with Ignis was a blessing, but each new hour by his side proved itself to be a challenging curse all the same  .  Gladiolus kept finding endearing details about the other to daydream about: the softness of his hair, the melody of his laugh, the precision of his words, the smoothness of his voice — and, by the Six, he caught himself staring at Ignis’ lips more than once, at that point. All the romances he’d read proved useless when it came to the spring Ignis had brought to life inside of him. He wasn’t sure if he was in love, in lust, or  just  going insane.

(the answer was: all options stated above are correct. But he only came to find that out much later on).

His first kiss was not memorable — and it wasn’t with Ignis either, a fact that made the Amicitia somewhat angry at himself. It was a girl from school, whom Gladio had lunch with in a fateful evening.  They had innocent enough dates, but the fact remained that Ignis was still the only one to come over — and that place was the one Gladio refused to let anyone else take (not that Iris would allow such change if it  truly  came to be. She was more than ready to defend “Ignis’ honour”, as she had put it, and Clarus did nothing but cheer her on. Gods, his family was absurd, but he wouldn’t have them any other way).

Clarus never asked about his son’s ‘girlfriend’ anywhere near Scientia — and, soon enough, decided there was no point in bringing the topic up with Gladiolus, even when they were alone.

* * *

One fact did not change,  however.  As they grew older, a natural development  was expected: there was no reason for them to keep on sharing the same bed — and yet, there Ignis remained, weekend after weekend, curled by Gladiolus’ side, basking in his warmth.  Their routine drew out to a lazy halt as the dawn kissed the hills and, as Ignis finished the preparations for their meal, Gladio took a bath. Then, they ate together, bubbly conversations over the table.  With their stomachs full, they made some time for silly games — puzzles and cards were their frequent go-to. When the eleventh hour came, they bid their goodbyes and went to their rooms.

Every time Ignis followed Gladio’s steps, his heart pounded, and he couldn’t help his urge to smile.  It wouldn’t be tonight that they went their separate ways and he could only hope such arrangements remained the same for years to come.  Before laying in bed, he got rid of his shirt — that was somewhat new, the intense training sessions with Cor showing a very delectable result. He was a show-off, after all.  And _maybe_ he adored the tingling of his skin when Ignis got closer, his sleeping shirt riding up, allowing direct contact between their warm skin.

As the younger ran himself a steamy shower, — Gladio still  was surprised by  how hot Ignis liked his water — the Amicitia advanced some of his readings, saccharine literature providing enough material for a week of sweet dreams.  With a relaxed sigh, Ignis would walk with slow steps towards the bed, taking Gladiolus’ book from his hands. He was always careful to mark the page before setting it aside, then laying atop of him.  Ignis always threw himself without a care in those moments, and it was a lovable scenario (and, _no_ , he wasn’t  just  saying that because he had a stupid crush).  It never took long for them to drift to sleep — Ignis liked to caress Gladio’s hips, and Gladio occupied himself with his friend’s hair, massaging his head with light strokes, and they murmured gentle nothings to one another as if they were lovers in many past lives.

— Thank you.  — Ignis whispered one evening, no further explanations offered, damp and unkempt hair making him look even more captivating.  Gladio’s eyes were heavy, long seconds wasted in a simple blink, and his only answer was a quiet hum, encouraging the other to keep on talking. — I have not been able to sleep well these past weeks.  — the confession sounded muffled, as Ignis mouthed along Gladiolus’ collarbones, a feathery kiss pressed there. Ever so gentle, the Amicitia sighed, blissed out. — If not for you… I’d collapse. — there was a gentle chuckle, an unusual sound on Ignis lips, but as pleasant as every word his voice drew out.

— I‘m here for ya. Always.  — he answered in a lazy pace, almost purring as he kissed the top of the blond’s head, adoring the smell of his shampoo on Ignis. As heavy as his eyelids were, he managed to share one more look with his friend, and no other words  were needed. The electricity that ran through their bodies was a conversation on its own.

* * *

As the sun rose, so did Ignis, his cologne washed out by Gladio’s.  He stretched before heading downstairs, often getting breakfast done all by himself ( _Jared needs a break too!_ , he’d always pout and, at that point, the Amicitias brought it up only so they could hear Ignis whine)  .  It was rare for them both to share the kitchen by themselves: Gladio took way too long in his morning routine, and Clarus would already be reading the newspaper when his son arrived.  And yet — it always felt like there was no one in the world as Gladiolus’ lungs  were filled  with Iggy smelling as if he was _his_ , a silly smile dominating his features with blinding radiance.

(and yeah, it was ridiculous to even feel such ludicrous things, but it was also much stronger and easier than any rational thought he could have at eight in the morning) .

As he found any possible excuse he could to get closer to Ignis, anything to touch his hands and feel his body against his own, his mind went hazy. _I love you_ , he wanted to say as the sunlight surrounded Ignis like a halo.

I love you— and the words echoed inside his head.

Clarus laughed at the way his son looked, mouth agape, seeming as if he had  been struck by  lightning. Both Amicitias knew, from that point on, there was no turning back.

* * *

— Definitely son in law then. — Regis provided with humour as his Shield recounted the events from the weekend.

— Will you walk Ignis down the aisle?

— Wouldn’t lose that chance for the world, dear Clarus.

* * *

Unhappy thoughts, he hummed as Ignis lost his shirt, sweat caressing his taut muscles. _We are training for hours_ , Gladio gulped as his friend took their small break to stretch, the slim body  perfectly  displayed as he moaned due to the strain. _We smell gross_ , even though Ignis still looked more than presentable, and his musky cologne filled the room. _Sticky and sweaty_ , he reminded himself but wanted nothing more than to grab Ignis by the hair and kiss him, messy and strong. Could the Gods blame him for becoming enraptured by the delightful sight that was a wet Ignis? He was a hormonal teenager, Shield or not, and the Scientia was a test to his self-control.

It was easier when all he wanted to do was to peck the Advisor’s on the lips, but now— now he had to deal with the impending knowledge he could get hard at any given moment if Ignis did as much as breathe too hard.  Pinning the man down in a fight when he had dreamt about fucking him stupid the night prior was enough for his body to short circuit and, Shiva’s tits, he was sure he’d end up cumming in his pants one day.

And Ignis never spared him any mercy, all sharp movements and graceful jabs, dancing around him with mirth as he planned his next attack.  Whatever were Gladiolus’ sins, he paid for them all — but that didn’t stop Ignis’ ass from looking too good to be true, and Gladio had to stop himself from groaning aloud every time the man bent in front of him.

_You’ll be the death of me_ , as they both laid exhausted onto the mats, Ignis’ cheeks coloured in peachy pink, smiling up at Gladio as if he was his entire world. _Don’t make me kiss you_ , he’d think as he tickled the Advisor, hoping to distract himself from the unstoppable need that kept on blossoming, raging, commanding. 

* * *

Gladiolus was not jealous — could not be. Such feelings were never known by the man, and were almost beneath him, in a way.  Envy did not belong in a Shield’s life: his heart could not wander to such dark places, and most vile desires would not succeed in growing in his earthy soul. And yet, the nagging feeling on his chest only grew tighter, grip vicious.  Instead of protecting the Crown Prince, devoting  all of  his love and care to his service, Gladio wanted nothing more than to shun him away from Ignis.  In his head, there was no logical thought controlling the utter chaos that built up, like dark clouds approaching  ominously  on a sunny day.  The man growled as he turned his back, no longer bearing to see the proximity between the Prince and his Advisor — it infuriated him, somehow. The fact that Noctis, the fucking brat, could make Ignis smile so  tenderly. Even though he yearned to see happiness dominate the blond’s face, he craved to be _the one_.  The one that could lift all the weight from Ignis’ shoulders; the one he would turn to, starry-eyed and hopeful; the one that would  be gifted  all the warmth Ignis hid deep within himself. That was his only vice,  perhaps. Wanting more than he was due when matters of love  were concerned.

* * *

If only Noctis was the sole object of his despair.  No, Ignis seemed to attract a multitude of affections, and, by The Six, was Gladio tired of hearing self-assured, pompous men and women alike try and get to the Advisor’s good graces. It was almost painful. Ignis — _his_ Iggy — was always polite, entertaining all guests that crossed his path.  None of them could differentiate the lukewarm amenities Ignis trained himself to give away from the radiant glow that slipped by mistake off his lips when it was least expected.

In that particular evening, Noct teased him more than once about his inclination to stay glued to Ignis’ side, and Gladio only rolled his eyes in response.  Being overprotective with those he loved was a defining trait for the Amicitia, anyone with half a brain could tell: the way he stood tall next to Noctis, always in front of him, covering for any possible danger; the simple pats on Prompto’s back whenever he did something that made him proud; the almost overbearing way he nagged at Iris, so she’d stop being stubborn and let him help. Even when it came to the simplest of things, his dynamic with Ignis managed to differ. The other did not need him, being  perfectly  capable of tearing Gladio apart if he wanted to.  He could manage the world in his shoulders without as much as a sigh, and the Shield would let him — would wait until Ignis was ready to step down and accept his embrace. He almost orbited around the retainer, looking out for the man everyone took for granted.

— I’m sure they’re not gonna steal him away from you. — Noctis elbowed Gladio’s side, a smirk in the teen’s lips.  The touch did not bother him in the slightest, his attention caught on the woman dancing with the always so charming Scientia.

— Don’t know what you talkin’ about.  — he shrugged, even though his fists clenched as he saw hands slipping  dangerously  close do Ignis’ ass. Noctis scoffed, glaring at his Shield with mocking disbelief.

— Yeah, well, I’m sure the guy that wanted to dance with Specs did.

— What?

— You’re glaring at everyone that comes too close.

— I’m looking out for him!

— I know those looks very well.  — and, even though he knew Gladio wouldn’t dare hurt him, provoking the man that was already so riled up proved to be  increasingly  entertaining. — Not sure how I haven’t died from them alone.

— What the fuck does that even mean?

— That you’re a very jealous man. — and before Gladio could even retort, Noctis followed through. — You almost killed me last sparring session because I gave him a back hug!

— Your cheeks were touching!

— So you _were_ jealous? — an eyebrow quirked up, and seeing the taller man stumble upon his words made Noctis smile.

— Noct, stop pestering Gladio, if only for a night. — the poignant sigh made it obvious to whom the voice belonged, and the Shield felt his cheeks burning.  No matter how many times he saw Ignis (immaculate hair,  perfectly  fitting clothes, grace overflowing his every move), he still had to bite down on his tongue, keeping himself from admiring his damn coworker and best friend too much.  It was only effective once a full moon — and he was only aware of that fact because Iris and Noct liked keeping tabs on his shameless crush.

— I’ll leave the job to you then.  — the Prince winked after bowing, mockery so thick Gladio could punch it, disappearing from their sights soon enough.

— What has gotten to him today…?

— Teenagers.  — Gladio mumbled, unable to form a full and coherent phrase under the influence of Ignis’ attentions. Even so, the man chuckled — and it was that night’s first true smile, and _yes_ , Gladio was counting.  As he once more observed the curve of Ignis’ lips, mirroring his expression, the tension that anchored his shoulders dissipated. All it required? A mere brush of Ignis knuckles on the brooch perched on his chest.

— Who made you wear this?  — even when amidst bantering, there was a strange fondness at the edge of Ignis’ words, the gentle way he looked up at the Shield making his heartbeat stutter.

— Couldn’t I have picked it myself?

— Oh, please. You’d be half nude all the time if that was a viable option.

Gladio answered with a short laugh, messing his hair as if trying to wipe out his nervousness. — Iris chose it for me. — he finally confessed. — As if I wouldn’t be doin’ y’all a favour by coming in here shirtless. — and the way Ignis’ eyes shone, a small laugh falling from his full lips, was enough for his breath to hitch. — You’re beautiful. — he murmured, words beyond his control as his head spun. Before he could take the compliment back, Ignis smiled once more. It’s enough to make him feel like a child with his first crush, hands clamming up with sweat.

— You’re not too bad yourself, Gladiolus.

The Shield was glowing for the rest of the night.

* * *

It was not uncommon for visiting diplomats and politicians to attach themselves to Ignis by the hip  He was the youngest Council member the Kingdom had ever seen — outstanding,  nevertheless.  A more than pleasing face, with the manners to back the regality of his features, and enough extensive knowledge to never  be rendered  speechless. He could strike conversations with the most boring of folks, and make them feel honoured while at it.  Gladiolus couldn’t say he didn’t see it: after all, he was the one crushing on Ignis Scientia since he was a child and there were no compliments applicable to Ignis he hadn’t given out already.

However.  The line that separated professional admiration and outright creepiness were often crossed by these men — Ignis never commented on it, only shying himself away from the unwanted advances, but Gladiolus saw it all. The lingering touches in too intimate places, the predatory glances and invasive invitations.  Gladio’s nails buried themselves into his palms as he tried his best not to punch this one ambassador, the most forceful he’d seen thus far.

When Ignis reached for him in the palace that evening, almost clinging to Gladio’s arms, the man knew something was amiss.  Ignis was never so careless when it came to intimacy, reserving such displays of affection when there was not another soul to observe them. As he heard Mr Corvus’ voice, everything came into place, and the Amicitia sighed. — I am so sorry.  — the chamberlain muttered under his breath, ocean eyes staring up at him as if Gladiolus was some sort of heaven-sent knight in shining armour.  Maybe  he was — after all, he had the luxury of nobility, one that Ignis would only come to know if they married. Kiss the guy first, he chided himself, firm hands going down to the blond’s hips.  He brought Ignis closer, taking the opportunity to admire the way their bodies melted together as if they belonged together.

Gladio brushed his lips against Ignis’ — it was a cover, _of course_.  Just  so he could whisper a soothing “it’s okay” and play the perfect part of the possessive boyfriend he wished he was. _Fuck this dude but also thank you for being driving this perfect man right into my arms._ As the Scientia seemed to struggle to put himself back together, the delicate marble of his cheeks tinted cherry-red, the Shield was quick on his feet  .  The ambassador stared at them, nose scrunched up and smile decorated with disdain, and Gladio’s only response was to bring Ignis closer. _Eat that_. — I am sorry for disrupting the both of you. — _no, you’re not_. — I hoped to confirm your attendance at tonight’s banquet? It’d be my pleasure to enjoy more of your company, Ignis. — and he said the name as if that would be enough to send Gladio away.

— Of course, we will. — the Amicitia was smiling, but it never quite reached his eyes.  Both of them  were obliged  to attend that festivity, but Gladio would make sure to remain by his friend’s side the whole night if need be. — Right, babe?  — the endearment was deliberate and Corvus seemed to take the hint, excusing himself afterwards  .  Ignis almost crumbled into his arms right then, a defeated sigh ghosting over Gladio’s chest and sending a shiver up his neck .

— He’s going to try and grab my derrière all night. — the younger whispered, a frown settling down on his forehead. He didn’t move away, though, grip tight as if he never wanted their hug to end. — What do I do? — it felt like a rhetoric question, but Gladiolus answered anyway.

— Let your boyfriend scare him away.

— What do you mean, I don’t… Oh. — and Ignis only blushed further.

* * *

— Oh, so you’re going on a date?

— It’s nothing like that… I’m helping Ignis out.

— It is a date! Daddy, Iggy is Gladio’s date!

— I’m well aware, Iris.

— Not you too…

— You’ll have to be quick if you intend on catching Scientia, my boy. He’s quite the bachelor, or so I’ve heard.

— Shut up.

* * *

The ride to the palace was a challenge on itself.  Iris wouldn’t stop teasing him, reciting pointers she had read on some random teenager’s magazine, and his father would only add fuel to the fire. What had he done to deserve  all of  this?, he mumbled under his breath.  Even though Iris had insisted in styling his hair, it was already messed up, long strands falling onto his sharp cheekbones — and he hadn't even seen Ignis yet.  Of course, the man would look stunning (he always did), and Gladio would have to try his hardest not to act like a lovesick puppy.

— Are you going to kiss Iggy tonight?  — Gladio could only choke on air, all thoughts coming to a full-stop, while Clarus tried to hide the fact he was laughing.

* * *

The first thing Gladiolus noted was _damn_ , Ignis knew how to arrange a party.

The second was _damn_ , Corvus was already there and also all over his date.

The third was _damn_ , Ignis was hot — hotter than usual, hot as an open flame, hot enough for the temperature of the room to rise, hotter-than-hell kind of hot .

— When you told me about the possible wedding, I didn’t think it was this bad. — it was Regis’ voice, but Gladiolus  barely  registered it. _Too busy drooling, I’ll be right back in two seconds_.

— It’s a lost cause. — Clarus replied as Gladiolus teased a bow to his King. The man dismissed it, still laughing at him. And, even though their light banter  was directed  at him, all Gladio could think about was Ignis.

The refined suit wasn’t the most expensive, but its design was elegant beyond measure.  It hugged the Advisor’s body quite  tightly, enough so his physique could  be admired  underneath all the fabric.  The colour palette wasn’t astounding — Ignis didn’t need that to stand out, neutral hues accentuating the pink that stayed hidden in his cheeks and the deep sea gleam he carried in his eyes. Each time Gladiolus observed the man, he felt trapped by a piece of art, unable to look away.  He’d remain like that for hours, if he could, cataloguing every brush that composed the mesmerizing painting that the Scientia was.

However, he  was pushed  towards Ignis as their gazes met — and the Advisor’s begged for rescue. Gladio could feel the eyes of his family on his back, but his resolve did not waver.  It was the only reason he was there, after all: to protect his fake boyfriend (and he had to remember such fine print as they came closer, his brain  quickly  turning into mush).

He pulled Ignis towards himself when their proximity  was deemed  enough by the quick pulse of his heart, a sudden urge commanding him to take and take and never give back.  His rough but nimble fingers found the path towards Ignis’ hips with ease, a gentle embrace ambiguous enough to fight off any possible suitors.  That should be enough, he thought, unbothered to act with some resemblance of propriety as he took in the beauty that stood in front of him. The Advisor had an aristocratic air, for sure, but that wasn’t what brought Gladio in, no.

What he loved the most was the angelic features sculpted upon Ignis’ skin, the poetry of his every breath never failing to make Gladiolus think of him as  otherworldly.  As Ignis’ lips found the corners of his mouth, a breathy apology making Gladio’s hold tighten, he could only think: he’s too good to be true.

Their exchange had killed the mood for anyone except for themselves, the Shield realized, somewhat proud — yes, he felt akin to having a heart attack, but he also felt more than capable of screaming at full volume that Ignis was his, and everyone had to suck it up. He did neither,  however. Everything had a limit, and he had already stretched  all of  them.

As much as he wanted to take the Scientia away from these men  just  minutes ago, he was now making idle conversation.  A boast to his ego, since no one would dare make advances on Ignis while he was standing right there, all possessive touches and unabashed protectiveness. And, Gods, Ignis was _clinging_ to him — it was hard to believe he was even playing a part.  His fingers were caressing Gladiolus’ nape, whispering into his ears ever so often, whole body pressed up against his own.  Resisting his pretty mouth was the hardest thing he’d ever done — his lips  were drawn  to perfection, read and plump and so inviting, and Ignis didn’t retreat, only coming closer and closer, and even his voice was alluring, dripping like the thickest of honey, and what was the topic of conversation, even?

And he thought dreaming about Ignis was bad enough.

Silly old him.

* * *

It didn’t take them too long to run off — as they always did.

Even though duty came first, the small tradition  was created  years ago.  Ignis would tire himself out, stiff as a brick for days before any event, and even while attending the fanciest of them, he’d have perpetual worry written all over his face. At least, that’s what Gladio saw — no one else was quite as good at reading Ignis.  And so, when enough hours had crossed the clock, he’d grab his best friend by the hand, and they’d take a breather in the most empty of balconies.

After indulging in so many insufferable guests, and hearing the worst of teasing from their own families and friends, 

> — Took the both of you long enough.
> 
> — It’s a pretend date, for the last time.
> 
> — Doesn’t look like it.
> 
> — And you do have my blessing, son.

> — As Ignis has mine, although… Shouldn’t you talk to your uncle about it?
> 
> — Oh, shush! You’re all making Iggy blush! He won’t kiss Gladdy if y’all keep this up!
> 
> — They already kissed, dummy.
> 
> — We did not.
> 
> — Everyone saw it, pretty sure Prom took a few pictures if you wanna see them…
> 
> — No!

> — Oh, yes, I need that for our family photo book, Gladiolus, don’t be silly.

they _deserved_ it.

The moonlight was refreshing, the bubbling sounds of the party’s commotion  being muffled by  the lightest of breezes. As Ignis’ head rested upon his shoulder, Gladio felt at peace.  His heart still stammered, of course, his breathing proving itself to be unreliable, but there was no better method of soothing his nerves than whatever Ignis did to him.

— I am  deeply  sorry. — the blond’s voice was small, and Gladio only stared at him, confusion ingrained into his forehead. — The teasing. I didn’t think it would go so far. And you wasted your entire night with me.

— I wouldn’t call it “wasting”. I’ve always found a way to be right at your side, haven’t I? At least I had an excuse tonight.  — the smile he offered Ignis was not the brightest: it  was worn  out, only one corner of his mouth raised, but it was raw in its passion, honest. — As for the jokes, I don’t care. — I wish they were the truth were the words left unsaid. — Besides, I was the one that offered to be your date, Igs. And I don’t regret it one bit.

— Keep on talking like that, and I’ll never let you leave.

—  Maybe  I don’t want to.

And then, Ignis sighed — beautiful and all his, at least for that moment.  The way his eyes searched for Gladio’s through thick lashes were the final nail on the coffin for the Shield, the vulnerability displayed by the simple touch of their hands, the proximity of their faces, of their bodies. They  were bonded  forever, and the Amicitia was sure of it by the time he whispered into Ignis’ forehead.

— I love you.

A quick leap from his heart, and then.

— I do love you. — and the quiet ‘but’ made Gladiolus shiver. Ignis only cradled his head, nuzzling his nose against the man’s cheeks, as if sensing his fear. — I’m afraid I— I am also in love with you, Gladio.

That was their first real kiss, one more delicate brush of their lips, even though their knuckles trembled as they held one another.  The small reality in which their love wouldn’t shatter like glass had to  be protected  with uncertain, but no less intimate, touches. — I love you.  — Ignis repeated, no longer insecure in his pursuit for more contact, exploring each valley of the older’s mouth with attentive caresses  .  Gladiolus felt full, a hummingbird instead of a heart thrumming against his ribcage as he pulled Ignis onto him once more, their legs tangled as  badly  as their souls.

* * *

Many years later, Gladiolus would open his eyes due to the rising sun to the blissful sight of his now husband. As he kissed Ignis awake, minutes before his actual alarm setting off, he’d murmur a confession of his love. The answer he obtained was still the same, more or less.

— I’m still  irrevocably  in love with you.  — the polished words sounded the more endearing thanks to the drowsiness of Ignis’ voice, laughter followed by a deep kiss being the only possible tool to suppress their endless morning declarations  .  There was no sun brighter than the ones he felt inside his chest, new stars decorating the curves of his body with each new kiss Ignis would bless upon him.

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting on my drafts for days, and it only grew and grew! it was supposed to be just a fic about gladio being a bit on the jealous side, but... welp.  
> hope it was enjoyable read, at least! hit me up with any criticism, ideas, or pure fangirling. love y'all.


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